


[Not] Fated to be The King

by GuraKruor



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Childbirth, Gen, Headcanon, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 22:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11114205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuraKruor/pseuds/GuraKruor
Summary: It was a day of joy for every fanelian except for Dune; Van's birth changed it all.





	[Not] Fated to be The King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dark Stars (ivorybyrd)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorybyrd/gifts).



> **DISCLAIMER** : This is a non-profit fanfic, The Vision of Escaflowne is property of Shoji Kawamori, Kazuki Akane and Sunrise; please support the official release.  
>  This is my entry for the May/June/July Pic’n’Fic 2017, the theme is Destiny/Fate; it will be focused in the movie version of the following facts so there will be some Exposition TM  
>  ~~This is [not] a reference to Evangelion, I’m [not] a super fan of it, this is [not] a joke.~~  
>  Without further ado, I hope you to enjoy ~

It was in a warm day of the White Moon, precisely in the 12th when everyone was waiting for the prince to be born. Nobles from around the country had reunited in the capitol, Adom, in order to presence this glorious moment; high ranks that were in another countries in diplomatic tasks dropped them and came as fast as they could. It was an event that all of them were going to remember though generations with joy.

  
The citizens were standing outside the Royal Palace; merchants had taken the opportunity to sell their goods and keep the audience happy. There were even street-performers entertaining them; some reenacted important events from the fanelian history and others played traditional songs. The sun wasn’t yet in the sky so the streets were illuminated with candles above tall poles, early birds had started to chirp welcoming the king star.

  
But the most important part of this tale was happening inside the Castle; its dark aisles had also candles in the walls, servants ran from side to side carrying basins with water and rags, some were clean and others bloody. The screams of a woman echoed around the Royal Chambers of the King and Queen of Fanelia; she had been suffering for around three days and her subjects prayed to the Dragon of the Skies, Escaflowne, for her wellbeing constantly. The last princess to pass this tribulation ten years prior had a shortest pain, but it was compensated for a greater one once her ordeal ended.

  
The matron helped Queen Varie with the assistance of three of her apprentices; the King wasn’t present inside the room even if it was his own, it was something only women were allowed to witness. King Gau had done the same with his firstborn as his father before him; the prince wouldn’t be an exception.

  
Unbeknown for most the people present inside the alcove, a young pair of red eyes was observing, in silence, this event. Dune had slipped inside of one of the numerous secret pass-ways build centuries ago by the original owners of the Castle. Lost in time, the information about their location was buried in the old pages of dusty books forgotten by the actual occupants of the Palace. There existed many paintings and tapestries with hollow spots used to conceal the presence of unwanted onlookers; during the time of the old kings they were used to keep an eye on the movements of the royal family, most time to see with whom passed time the Queen.

  
If he was honest, the youngster would accept that he was indeed nervous and excited in that moment; he already knew that he was going to have a brother, as soon as the Queen knew she was with child a matron told her the gender of the baby. But his curiosity wasn’t a pure one; he was more preoccupied about what was going to be foretold about the prince more than anything in his life.

A new cry joined the screams of the Queen: the prince was born. He was a small child, with what looked to be raven hair covered with blood; his thin body was stiff and his hands on fists. The matron cut off the umbilical cord and handed him to the nurses who bathed him for his mother.

She was a sweaty mess but looked radiant to her subjects, black hair covering most the bed and pasted to her face. The ones who were the closest to her recognized the pride in her eyes: her son wouldn’t be a failure.

A nurse took the prince and another called the High Priest of Nale; others prepared a washbasin with perfumed water, two carried a round wooden table. It was at this moment that King’s presence was permitted; he had to hear what the holy man would say about his son.

The High Priest had been called a week prior, he was the one who had to read the fate of the newborn prince; the last time he was a guest of the Palace it was for a funeral a year ago. He was now standing outside the Royal Chambers waiting for his time to go inside the room, there were two of his apprentices in each side of the door and behind him his granddaughter.  
They went inside the room with a ceremonious pace, their white attires with gold and red motifs made them look eerier than usual. The four had blue eyes, long silver hair and pointy ears; it was quite difficult to distinguish the gender of the two apprentices. If Dune had to guess he’d bet they were women, but with their kind there was always a possibility to be wrong until hearing their voices.

The youngest of the four —Sora— turned her head to look directly to the place where the youngster was hidden. Many had said that he had an unnerving look on his eyes; apparently they also gave his location if he was focused in one person, he had to fix that issue but not today.

One of the nurses gives the prince to the man from Nale; he looked at him to the eye and the baby stopped his cries, both were immersed in a silent private conversation. Dune wondered if that’s how it he had been rejected as a future king, if that was the case it was for an arbitrary reason; how was someone to know your future just by gazing into a newborn’s eyes?

“Out from his mother’s breast, I offer thou this child oh, Escaflowne of the skies!” the elder lifted the baby above his head and his three companions started to sing an ethereal melody.

A powerful wind was summoned inside the alcove, most closed their eyes but the four foreigners and the youngster inside the wall; the five noticed how it, for some reason, came out from above the head of the prince. If Dune had to bet, that was some kind of holy signal and his fate had been sealed in front of his very eyes; how foolish had he’d been to think that his little brother would be like him.

“The Dragon of the Skies has spoken, he blesses this prince as the next King of Fanelia; his reign will be one of a thousand years,” the voice of the High Priest had a different tune laced with his.

Queen Varie smiled and fainted in the bed; it was at this very moment that the King took his son and with perfumed water cleaned him on the wood table. It was clear for everyone in the room that he was satisfied with the prophecy of the Holy Man; Dune had never seen that look in his father’s eyes before this day.

The youngster saw how the King left the room with the prince in his arms, followed by the foreigners as their cortege: he had to declare him as his rightful heir in front of his people.

His firstborn followed him using the pass-ways, he couldn’t miss this moment; even if the intricate web of aisles was narrow he kept up with their pace and arrived to the first room next to the entrance of the Castle. He came out from behind a statue and joined the retinue in silence; he knew that even if he had done noise of any kind his father couldn’t bat and eye, he was absorbed by this important day.

The big wooden doors were opened; all the citizens present in the esplanade ceased their activities and waited for their King’s words. He was wearing the royal armor, it was quite possible that the baby was uncomfortable on his arms yet he was as silent as a grown adult, as if he knew what was going to happen next.

“People of Fanelia, here is your prince: Van Slanzar de Fanel; long will be his reign once mine ends!” it was already known that their King was a man of few words, but those were so important that the citizens, instead of screaming at the top of their lungs unrecognizable cheers, they acclaimed with one voice:

“Long life to the King, long life to the prince and his land, Fanelia!” they were in need of a successor to the throne, they meant every word in their own personal meaning.

From behind the main entourage; Dune couldn’t join his people in their cheers, his mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like sandpaper. The granddaughter of the High Priest of Nale looked at him from the corner of her eye; it was a sad picture but it wasn’t the moment to tell him that everything would be alright, he needed solitude to process what had just happened.

The end of the ceremonious ovation left place to one big roar of happiness coming from every fanelian but the royal house. Dune took three steps back to the Palace and then ran, searching for a pass-way to not hear their voices; after some time he arrived to his private quarters and fell to the floor in his knees.

It was over, if his presence in his land was already irrelevant now it was nothing; the spare was more important to the kingdom than him. He didn’t even knew what to feel in that moment, happiness for having a brother, sadness for losing his place or anger towards the Dragon of the Skies for not choosing him as worthy. But it was all futile, in the end he was the problem of the whole equation, if he hadn’t even been born the firstborn would be the King and the royal house wouldn’t have a stain in their history.


End file.
